To be quite honest, I've had drafts of some of these scenes written for years, hence the fast and furious, daily, updates at this stage. That will slow, soon, I imagine. Thanks for following along!

Chapter 6: The Nightmares Continue

The next night, Harry found that the nightmares had continued, and Harry had to wonder to himself when Voldemort slept, because it became quite clear that late-night meetings with Death Eaters was a regular occurrence. It appeared unlikely that all of the Death Eaters were ever in attendance, and Harry supposed this was a way of protecting the anonymity of the Death Eaters.

Try as he might, Harry wasn't able to pull himself out of the vision he was having. He couldn't tell if Voldemort knew he was there, but even if he did, Voldemort continued to torture his followers. Harry began to feel sick as he also permitted his followers to torture one another, when he felt further punishment was deserved.

They were punished for simple mistakes: they didn't bow low enough, or weren't allowed in the Minister's good graces. They didn't know the answer to a question Voldemort had asked. Harry lost count of the number of cruciatus curses he felt that second night, and the third night, and the fourth night.

As the week went on, Harry had cast concealing charms on the bags under his eyes, and the shallow pallor that his skin had started to take on after nearly a week of very little sleep, and no restful sleep.

He realized that Snape and Silverwood, particularly, were watching him very closely. Isaacs had caught Harry with a poorly-aimed tripping jinx, and he'd failed to appropriately answer multiple questions when he'd been drilled in Latin. He'd received no less than three tongue lashings from his master as he had fallen prone to zoning out at any hours of the day.

It was Saldor, though, who finally tried to broach the topic. He and Harry had been the last to leave the Training Hall after what Harry felt to be a brutal training session, though it seemed Terran and Ferraldin both breezed through that afternoon's workout with ease. "Apprentice Aeternus, one can't help but notice that you are not fully present for the last several days."

"Sir?"

"Oh, cut the act, Apprentice. You were practically falling asleep at dinner last night. You couldn't last more than two minutes on the framework just now. And not to mention your expertly-cast concealing charms."

"How did you-"

Harry looked down at the withering stare that was sent his way. "I'm the last Master of the Dark Arts. You don't think I can't see my way past a simple concealing charm?"

"Will you teach me?"

Saldor shook his head. "You're deflecting, Aeternus. Deliberately. You have not been demonstrating the finesse and potential that you are capable of, recently. What is going on?"

"Nothing is going on, Sir."

It wasn't that Harry didn't trust the man, and he was sure the man would likely be able to help him. But he wasn't entirely willing to find a way around the dreams. Every morning, as he awoke in a sheen of sweat, he didn't know if his master was one of the Death Eaters tortured the night before. He felt the information that he could gain from watching the dreams outweighed the distraction. He just needed to adjust and find a way to get a bit more sleep during the day…

"Aeternus, you need sleep, and for some reason you aren't getting enough. There is a war going on and you have responsibilities here. You put forth the proposal that you could help with additional responsibilities, and you were granted an extraordinary leadership position, both in the school and with the Guard. I do not want to force you to tell me what is happening, but it's possible that I could help you."

"No, Sir. There is nothing to help with. I promise, I will get sleep, and I will be right as rain tomorrow, before the weekend's end."

After another withering stare, Harry was relieved when Saldor let the matter drop, only after a warning that he would regret it if this trust was misplaced. Harry only hoped he wouldn't regret it.

Harry allowed the older man to lead him to the Great Hall for dinner, sitting beside his master. "Good evening, Master Shadowman, Master Silverwood," Harry bowed. "Have you had a good day?"

"Sir," Harry turned to Snape as dinner finished up, "May I have permission to spend time with the Gryffindors this evening?"

Snape looked at the boy and shared a long glance with Master Saldor. Harry sighed. It never boded well when Snape consulted with the others. "A few hours. You will be back in the quarters, and in bed, before nine."

"Sir, it's Friday-"

"I am aware of the days of the week, Apprentice," Harry looked down at his plate. "Bed, no later than 9 pm. Concealing Charms lose their potency the longer they're maintained, Aeternus."

"You can tell?"

A snort. "You think I can't see through a concealing charm? Saldor never would have let me complete my mastery without learning how. You may go. But do not forget. Nine o'clock."

"Harry, are you okay?" Ginny met Harry at the exit to the Great Hall. "Ron and Hermione will meet us in the Tower. They are stopping at the library to pick up a book. You look terrible."

"Gee, thanks, Gin," Harry muttered sarcastically. "I'm fine. Just haven't slept well."

"You're still having nightmares?" Harry wished he hadn't told Ginny. She, better than anybody, had a sense of what it was like to have the Dark Lord's mind only an inch from yours. And, more than anything, that made Ginny more concerned than anybody else. "Are you sure they're just nightmares?"

"I don't know, Gin," Harry admitted as they climbed the stairs toward the Tower. "I do know that I need to be back by nine tonight, and I need to get some good sleep this weekend, or I'll face some really serious consequences. I came up with the proposal for all of the extra work I'm doing, so I can't let anybody down."

"You aren't letting anybody down, Harry. You know I think you should tell Snape, but I don't want to fight, so I won't tell you again." Ginny looped his arm into hers as they told the Fat Lady the password. "Now, can I tell you about Quidditch yet?"

"Has Ron forgiven you yet?" Ginny sighed at Harry's question. Ron had been furious that Ginny had been named Quidditch Captain over him, even though they had both been on the team the same amount of time. Ginny tried to pacify him, offering him a co-captain spot, but it didn't stop Ron from refusing to speak to his sister for the better part of the summer. He finally relented and spoke to his sister, only when she threatened to kick him off the team. The truce seemed to be very tentative, even several weeks later.

"I think so, he's talking to me more again, and he's willing to talk strategy. Anyway," she waved, "there's absolutely no chance you can come back? Colin is a decent seeker, but he's definitely not you."

"Sorry, Gin, you know it's impossible. Colin did great last year. Ravenclaw only got the Cup because Cho's got the experience. Colin'll only do better this year."

When Harry woke up early the next morning, the first Saturday of term, it was not to his Master's sharp "Up!" that he was accustomed to, but instead to another vision of Voldemort casting Crucio on a masked follower. Harry, as before, continued to feel the torture curse almost as though it was being cast on himself. Blinking awake, he realized several things: it was still very dark in his room, his throat was extremely sore, his sheets were slightly damp, he was covered in a sheen of sweat, and he was certainly not alone. In fact, he realized with a start that somebody had been trying to shake him awake. Was it his mentor?

"Aeter, Aeternus!" It was definitely his master. "Wake up, Aeternus. That's it, it was a dream. Come on, now." If his headache hadn't kept him from thinking clearly, Harry might have caught the slight catch in his master's voice.

"Snape," Harry was so groggy he didn't even realize that the last time he had called his Master by his given name was over a year ago. "Were you there? Were you one of them? Are you hurt?" Harry was still not in the waking world, fully, and Snape wasn't sure what he was referencing him. "Did Voldemort get you?"

Snape's eyes widened, but he schooled his expression quickly. "I have been home all night, Aeternus, what are you talking about?"

"You went out. To a meeting? I was sure you were one of them…"

"One of whom, Aeter," Snape's voice was sharper. "Are your nightmares about the Dark Lord?"

Harry shook his head, missing Snape sag in relief, before he finally spoke, "Not nightmares. Visions." He finally opened his eyes when his master did not speak. He closed his eyes, rubbing his aching scar. "I see His meetings."

When Harry blinked again, pulling his hand away from his scar, he realized that his hand was moist with blood. That one was new, he belatedly thought. Upon this realization, Snape summoned a rag to clean the wound. " 'M fine, Sir," Harry argued, struggling to sit up in his bed, even as Snape held him quite still to clean the scar.

"You will desist, immediately," Snape's voice held a warning, even as he pushed the boy back into bed, summoning a second rag to wipe the sweat off of Harry's face. "You will be taking this Dreamless Sleep. You need your rest. We will talk when you've woken."

"I can't miss class, Sir. We have a test-"

"It's Saturday, Apprentice," Snape said dryly. "You will sleep. And this afternoon, we will talk. I think it's past time you were honest with me about these… visions, and how long you've been suffering from them."

Snape's delivery of these lines made it clear that the man had suspected about his dreams, but had not been certain, and was not pleased. At all. The dark expression on his face meant a long conversation was to follow. Not wanting to think about what might happen if his master felt he were keeping something important, Harry reached for the Dreamless Sleep Potion.

As Harry uncorked and drank the potion, his master banished the rags and rose. "Sleep well, Aeter. I will wake you when the potion has run its course."

"Yes, milord," Harry acquiesced as he settled back into his bed. Snape sighed, glancing back at his charge before shutting himself out of the boy's bedroom.

As soon as Snape shut the door, he leaned against the doorframe. It was already five in the morning, so he knew that he could find Saldor heading out for a run, and decided that there was nothing he needed more than joining his own mentor for a good run, and the other man's expert advice on the Dark Arts.

When Harry woke again, his bedroom was much brighter than he was accustomed. Glancing at his watch, Harry realized it was already half past eleven, and while his master had promised to wake him, Harry hardly believed that his intent was to wake him with the loud voices that were coming from the common area of their quarters. Not appreciating having such a late lie in, Harry slipped quickly from his bed, dressed in his apprentice robes, and stepped into the sitting room.

Snape very rarely allowed others into their private space- at most maybe one or two guests came for a nightcap and conversation, so Harry was shocked to see his master and Master Saldor glaring at Dumbledore on the couch. In the armchair directly across from Harry was Remus Lupin. And with his back to all of them, looking out the window, was Harry's own godfather: Sirius Black. Among all of them, only Lupin looked nonplussed; and among them, only Lupin was situated in a place to see Harry's entrance. Harry smiled at him as he approached the group.

"Erm, good morning, Milord, Master Saldor," he bowed deeply to each of the masters in turn. "Headmaster, Moony, Padfoot." He smiled at Moony and Padfoot, glad to see them again.

"Ah, Aeter," Snape greeted and conjured another armchair for him. "You have awoken. We were discussing next steps. Please, take a seat."

Harry timidly did so. "Sir," Harry said cautiously, "I-" Harry stopped. He didn't know if he was going to apologize or explain his dream. But he was suddenly uncomfortable doing either in front of a crowd.

Sirius and Snape exchanged glances. Harry was confused by this: the two did not get along, though they had been trying since Snape was assigned to be his master, but they seemed to have agreed, wholeheartedly, on something. Finally, Sirius spoke, "Harry, I am so happy to see you up and moving about. When we got Severus' owl, Remus and I wanted to make sure we came to check on you. We're staying in the castle for the weekend. Your master has invited us to have dinner with you tonight. We look forward to joining you."

Harry smiled at his godfather, recognizing Sirius' attempt to excuse himself and Lupin. He suspected they had all been discussing his dreams, anyway, though he had no idea how they could even know about them.

Remus stood to join Sirius, shooting a meaningful look at Dumbledore. "Yes, we look forward to dinner. In the meantime, we have a meeting with the Headmaster. Albus?"

Dumbledore sighed, looking from the two Marauders to the three Masters, each in turn. None of them seemed at all bothered by his glances. "I will support this if you all think this is the best course of action," he sounded defeated. "My concern is only for Harry's health and happiness."

He locked eyes with Snape last. Snape broke his gaze to look at his apprentice. "Harry's well-being is my only interest, Albus. That is what I am tasked with. This is the best way forward."

Dumbledore nodded and reluctantly allowed the Mauraders to lead him out of the room.

Snape turned to Harry. "Please, tell us about your vision."

Harry sighed. They were painful to live the first time. "Voldemort was casting Crucio on a death eater. I thought it was you, Sir. And. Well. I felt the curse." Harry's answer was rather whispered. Whatever the three masters were expecting to hear, that was not it. Harry's usually calm master was on his feet in an instant.

"You felt the Cruciatus Curse?" Harry closed his eyes and nodded. "And you have been having these visions since you've returned to Hogwarts?" For Snape's part, this was only a hunch that he was unable to prove.

Again, Harry nodded, knowing the answer would not please his master. If there was something that Snape hated most, it was the deliberate withholding of information. "Yes, Sir. I had the first one the first of September."

Realization dawned on the master. "That's why you were almost late that morning?" A silent nod from Harry. "Granger and Weasley are aware of these?" Snape's lips became a tight line.

"Sir!" Harry protested, "I made them promise not to tell! It's not their-"

"Silence." The command came quiet, but deadly, "We will speak about secret-keeping. And I will be speaking with the two. Later." He turned to the other master. "This changes things, doesn't it?"

Saldor nodded. "I need to consult with the Board. I have a hunch, but I'll also need to run several tests with Aeter. In the meantime, some basic Occlumency exercises and Dreamless Sleep, together, should help. You know better than most, though, Sev-"

"The danger of too much Dreamless Sleep, yes," Snape sighed. "Is it too soon to hope for an audience with the Board next week?"

Saldor's laugh was a bark. "Sterling may be here tomorrow, where Aeter is concerned. I will begin my research, and follow back with both of you as soon as I am able. Enjoy dinner with Black and Lupin. Enough worry is coming for all of us, very soon."